Jungkook p.o.v
You certainly have,
--
I sat in front of the canvas, my mind refusing to paint what the customer had wanted an hour ago. Because I couldn't stop thinking about him.
The way his eyes sparkled, the way his tongue travelled slightly across his lips before he leaned in and made me taste sweet and explosive fireworks.
I sighed with my chin resting in my palm, day dreaming and neglecting my job. My phone buzzed with a message and I unlocked it annoyingly, wondering which bitch inturuppted my heated thoughts.
Turns out the bitch was Taehyung.
From: Taehyung
comin over ur studio, need tell u somethin
Back when we used to date, he always had perfect grammar and punctuation because he knew it was knew one my pet peeves if he typed like a second grader.
He only typed like that if he was heavy on the alcohol.
I didn't bother replying because it's not as if was he asking permission.
Within twenty minutes, I saw a flushed red head entering through the door and sure enough, there was that bottle of liquor clutched in his long silver ringed fingers.
His footsteps looked uncoordinated and he was swaying a bit, a lazy smirk travelling up his slightly pink cheeks.
His shirt looked crumpled and his blue jeans looked stained with something.
He looked so dead.
"What happened, Kookie? You didn't even meet at the club. Who was this hottie supossed to get drunk with?"
He slurred.
He was definitely drunk.
"Well if you weren't gonna meet me, I thought I would come here myself~" He sang as he sat on the floor cross legged, taking long swings from his bottle.
I walked over and tried to take the bottle from him, but he wouldn't budge.
"That's enough, Taehyung. You're too dru--wai--"
Before I could finish, he yanked me and pulled me into a hug. Smell of fresh soap mixed with alcohol made my head spin and I gripped his shirt to steady myself.
"Why so mad, Kookie? It's not like we were fuck buddies." Taehyung chuckled.
I didn't like his tone. It was on the borderline of bitterness or perhaps that was just the poison in his system. Either way, the way his lips rested dangerously near my neck and his fingers brushed through my hair felt so. . .wrong.
He curled himself around me tighter, making me want to scream at sitting practically in his damn lap. I wanted to scream and bathe myself in pounds of soap.
But this was Taehyung, he wouldn't drink unless it was to drink away the pain. I'm sure it's because he's still mourning over Hoseok. And even though I have Jimin, he doesn't have anybody.
The boy he loved passed away before he could confess to him.
He exhaled and murmured something so quiet, I had to crane my ear near him more.
"Listen, Jungkook." He softly spoke through his dry lips.
"Before you say anything else, let me get you a glass of water." I told him and ran to get him it.
When I got back, he was standing against the wall, with his eyes closed and his long lashes grazing his cheeks, the sunlight seemed to drink his warmth in the cold day.
He gulped the water down, looking a bit more sober. When he saw me, something shifted and he exhaled, running a hand through his hair.
I looked long enough to notice the slight redness near his eyes.
"Jungkook, I need to tell you." He began, looking more unsure than the nervous words which trickled through his now moist lips.
I nodded for him to continue, eyes a little widened at what disaster he might've been involved in.
He studied me for a little longer, eyes travelling from my eyes to my cheeks and he sharply looked away.
"Ah fuck! This is hard." He grumbled.
He stepped closer with his eyes no longer hesitant, yet more sure and intense.
"Jungkook," his deep voice spoke.
His hands moved closer to grip the centre of my shirt, fabric softly moving between his fingers. He stopped to rest a hand near the centre of my chest, trying to feel something.
Eight months ago; my heart would have hammered and danced with its rapid beating.
But now; it stayed in that same slow rhythmic beat.
It seemed as if that was exactly what he was trying to observe, to feel if I was over him.
"I know I hurt you before a-and I'm sorry for that."
He let his hand wander back to his side, rubbing it against the side of his jeans.
"But Jungkook,"
he stepped closer and softly spoke the words I'd wanted to hear the day I was laying in the snow, tears and hiccups escaping me, wishing he'd come back,
"please, take me back."
My eyes widened and I stepped back, but he caught my hand and yanked me into his arms.
"I'm s-sorry, Taehyung. But I don't feel the same way anymore."
I don't know what his expression was, but the way he nodded and shuddered in my arms meant he was fighting back tears.
"It's 'cause of that doctor, right?" He said, voice faint.
I nodded and he kept quiet.
"I love him," I quietly croaked out.
"I j--, I just want you to be happy." He breathed.
After a few seconds, I heard the quiet sniffles of his and I finally wrapped my arms around my friend.
I don't know why but I thought of Hoseok. And then I thought about Jimin, wondering what if I had been Hoseok and Jimin had been Taehyung.
The mere thought of him living through such pain made my eyes burn and I cried in rhythm with Taehyung. Funny how me and Taehyung bonded again through crying and drinking rather than reminiscing about our future and past.
"We aren't perfect for each other, Taehyung."
He smoothed back my hair.
"It isn't that we aren't perfect for each other. It's our lives that aren't."
I felt myself loosen further.
"I'm scared of losing him though. . ." I quietly confessed.
Taehyung smiled into my hair and hummed.
"I had you once and let you go. That was my only chance. As much as I want to keep you here and make you mine, go. Go to him and tell him. Tell him and make him yours once again. Don't make the same mistake I did, Jungkook."
I squeezed my eyes shut, silently thanking him for his sincerity.
How hard must it be to let go of the one you deeply love.
So I ran through the door, not bothering to slip on a coat.
And I ran and ran,
until my footsteps trickled away on the pavement,
and my eyes rested upon a silver haired Yoongi,
and a black haired Jimin,
kissing.
--
all of me.
